Chaos in Motion
by RavensRequiem
Summary: Life is chaos and chaos is always in motion. It blindly weaves through the boundaries of madness, love, forgiveness, hatred, regret, and sacrifice without a thought as to who's swept up in its wake. -Drabble series, see note for warnings-
1. Session 01

**Chaos in Motion**

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_Disclaimer: I don't claim possession over any and all characters contained herein. I just decided to have fun with them._

_Notes: The human brain tends to wander after being awake for so many hours, ever notice that? ^^' While poking through the archives here, I found an amusing little challenge here: _http : // www . fanfiction . net / s / 5375414 / 1 / Tales_of_Love_and_Pain. _It looked like fun, so here you have it, rules and all:_

_1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.  
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.  
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!  
4. Do ten of these, then post them._

_Only God knows what's gonna pop outta my playlist and do be warned that I'm probably not going to stick to any one set of characters. …I'm bad like that._

_Warnings: Alta__ϊ__r/Malik, Ezio/Leonardo, Shaun/Desmond, violence, language, sexual themes, and the rest of that good shit._

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**Heaven Shall Burn: Against All Lies**

**[5:08:00 minutes]**

Whether they liked it or not, they worked together. They snapped and snarled and bit at each others heels daily, but they never failed to get their work done. Desmond thought Shaun was a stuck-up, pompous, sarcastic, biting, arrogant son of a bitch not worth more than his ever-expanding vocabulary of multi-ethnic swears. Shaun thought that Desmond was a lazy, over-glorified, self-martyring, brat that was barely worth his considerable intellect. But, the two of them still filed into that damned room every day and worked shoulder to shoulder in the metaphorical sense. They told themselves that they had to and in the beginning that was the only reason that they worked together.

But, the more time went by, the more they discovered both in the Animus and outside of it, the more they realized that they had a united goal and similar mindsets. Whether with the Assassins by choice or returned from the lam, they were with the Brotherhood to rid the world of the Knights Templar, hidden under the Abstergo guise. They went up against every imaginable odd every single day in the hopes that they could make their enemies suffer for what they'd done.

And, eventually, Desmond and Shaun realized that their missions had transcended duty or begrudging respect.

They fought for the Creed and they fought for each other.

* * *

**Rise Against: Ready to Fall**

**[3:41:00 minutes]**

That was it – Malik was going to hurt Altaϊr. They were both formidable Assassins –novices, yes, but still formidable– and both of them had long ago come to the understanding that there were lines that just shouldn't be crossed. And goddamnit, Malik never asked Altaϊr to go swimming with him, so why in the fuck did he let the smug bastard pull him to the top of the forward guard post?

"I won't let you get hurt," Altaϊr swore softly under his breath, hands a reassuring weight over Malik's shoulders.

"But I don't want to do this!" Malik bit out angrily.

Altaϊr smiled and leaned forward to chastely kiss Malik. "If you don't do this, you'll never be more than a novice." He looked down for a moment, then back up, gray eyes dancing mirthfully. "I swear I will let you show me how to swim if you do this."

Malik didn't even want to try to look down; it was safer to keep glaring at Altaϊr despite his waning defenses. He trusted Altaϊr with his life, but he didn't want to jump. "Can't we do this some other time?"

"The trials are in one cycle," Altaϊr replied sternly. "Come, Malik, it's called the Leap of Faith for a reason."

And then they fell in each other's arms, eagles locked in a death grip as the ground came up to meet them and they landed safely in the shelter of a pile of hay.

* * *

**Atreyu: Congregation of the Damned**

**[3:30:00 minutes]**

It was too damned easy to get caught up in the moment and now they were both going to pay the price when the bruises made themselves known.

Altaϊr stumbled back with a bloody nose and split lip and Malik spat blood and fragments of a back molar, eyes locked and teeth grit as they readied themselves for the next bout. They were Assassins, killers by nature, and it seemed normal to onlookers for fights to break out when there was nothing to do. Some were concerned that the _Master Assassins_ were warring like angry initiates, but no one had the gall to intervene or ask why Altaϊr and Malik were fighting.

It could have been worked out peacefully, they could have used words instead of blades and fists, but this was the only way they knew how to solve a problem. They always got carried away and tore each other up something terrible, but it was their way to find the truth in the matter, because one could not hide the truth from the other in a fight.

Everyone fought in their world and a lover's spat could be worked out under that paper-thin guise.

* * *

**The Used: All That I've Got**

**[3:58:00 minutes]**

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Ezio couldn't sleep. It was hard to tell when insomnia would strike, but he found that it usually caught him when he was safely tucked away from the lethal world outside, wrapped in his lover's gentle embrace. He would lie awake with thoughts running rampant across his mind, dredging up guilt and hatred and remorse and relief all at once. There was nothing he could do to stop those thoughts from accosting him and it all ended with a terrible sense of loneliness that clutched at his chest and moved wretched fingers to his throat to squeeze the warmth from him.

Vengeance was slow in coming and he felt remorse for not avenging his family faster.

Love was hard to come by and he felt relief that he had found one person who could love a bloodied _Assassino_.

Enemies were in surplus and he hated them for refusing to die.

Ezio would sigh and curl into Leonardo then and realize that, for all that was wrong in his life, he always had the painter to return to and he surmised that that was good enough for the life he lived.

* * *

**Sixx AM: Life is Beautiful**

**[3:35:00 minutes]**

Shaun slammed his door closed behind him and leaned up against it heavily, pulling his glasses off to rub at his eyes harshly. He didn't cry, goddamnit, and he would be damned if he was going to start now.

But…

Shaun felt sorrow tear his heart in half again and he stumbled to his bed to sit before his knees gave out, Lucy's words still ringing through his head like some psychotic church bell. Those idiots had told him it would be safe, that everyone would come back alive from a little recon mission – he had been promised that nothing would happen on Desmond's first mission as an Assassin.

Two days later, the team had returned in tatters, only two of the ten Assassins able to return to the stronghold under their own power. It was then that he had been told that they had lost track of Desmond and had been handed the Assassin's twin gauntlets, a sign surer than a corpse that Desmond had been killed.

Shaun never cried, but he couldn't stop himself. So, he cloistered himself until a week later, when his lover walked in the door like nothing had ever happened.

* * *

**Trivium: Of Prometheus and the Crucifix**

**[4:40:00 minutes]**

It was dead silent save for the slap of flesh against flesh. One panted softly and the other was as quiet and as still as the grave and neither one could deny how badly things had changed since… They couldn't even state the name to themselves. Malik wanted flesh for vengeance and Altaϊr craved absolution and this was just one way each one received what they wanted. Malik would tear at Altaϊr on sight, kisses angry and touch nasty, ripping away weapons, clothes, putting the younger Assassin on display and shaming him with hateful eyes and the glaring reminder of what he'd taken present on his left side.

Altaϊr would allow it, follow Malik's lead and take the assault in silence, as if he were being interrogated. He knew that if Malik wanted to cut his heart from his chest, he would allow it to make amends to the one he had never wanted to hurt. His arrogance had ruined Malik's life and he would give his to make up for it. He never flinched when Malik entered him with little preparation and didn't make a noise when his member was roughly grabbed and stroked to life.

Malik hated to think what went through Altaϊr's mind during their encounters and it always came to a point where he didn't care.

Both of them knew it would eventually end and, until then, one begged for forgiveness while the other begged for blood.

* * *

**Suicide Silence: Wasted**

**[3:13:00 minutes]**

Leonardo always knew when he was in for a rough night, specifically when Ezio tripped in through a window and he couldn't figure out if his lover smelled more of blood or alcohol. Those were the nights when he would put Ezio to bed and strip off the most rigid of his armaments, setting aside weapons, and cleaning the _Assassino_ up, always tender and always smiling. It killed him to see his bright –if not jaded– Ezio reduced to such a state and was always afraid to even imagine what his lover had seen that had driven him to murder and drink in the same night. Once he had Ezio sleeping peacefully, he would continue to sit by the man's side and stroke his hair, sometimes working the knots out of it or bring the cloth back to work some blood out of the ends. Leonardo was a patient man and he loved Ezio enough to tolerate his murdering and drunkenness because he believed that, for all life handed Ezio that was bad, he had a right to offer his middle finger back sometimes.

* * *

**All That Remains: Chiron**

**[4:24:00 minutes]**

Desmond laughed nervously as he backed into Shaun, hidden blades rested against the grip of the gun he had heisted from a Templar agent. "This sucks."

"No shit."

Desmond heard the tension in Shaun's voice and maneuvered the both of them so that Shaun had a pillar between him and the rest of the world, determined to keep his battle-shy lover the hell out of the way of any stray bullets.

"Don't be stupid, Des," Shaun growled, well aware of what Desmond had done and was planning.

Desmond's smile was grim as he took stock of the surroundings, of the multitude of angry red figures lurking around the near-darkness of the power-starved stronghold. He wasn't going to let them take down another one of his brothers and he would be damned before he let them touch Shaun. "I'm not stupid. Stay low."

Shaun spluttered and turned to face Desmond. "I'm not defenseless, Desmond!"

"Hey." Desmond grabbed Shaun's jaw and stared at him hard. "I will come back, I swear it."

"You've said that before and damned well led me to believe that you were dead!"

Shaun heard the agents moving closer and kissed Shaun good and hard on the lips. "And I came back because you were here. Stay safe and I'll have a reason to come back again."

* * *

**Origa: Inner Universe**

**[4:57:00 minutes]**

So this was the price he paid to save mankind?

Desmond felt like putting his head through a fucking wall and being done with the whole damned war. He knew why 16 committed suicide now, knew why he could only rave in incoherent bursts through his hacked files, and felt nothing but pity for the poor bastard. 16 had been smart and killed himself, using the last bits of rationality in his mind to warn the next unlucky sucker about the Animus and Abstergo and the rest of those crazy motherfuckers.

But they weren't done with him yet and he had to struggle to keep the lines between himself, Ezio, and Altaϊr separated. At the start, Shaun could help him hold off the encroaching madness of the Bleeding Effect, but now the best he could do was keep the man the hell away from him. He was paranoid, driven by the Assassins' instincts and cagier than a rabbit in a den of foxes. He wanted to kill, to run, to seek solitude while his rational mind screamed at him that anything he saw or heard wasn't real! The schizophrenia made him a demon in battle, but he didn't want to wind up like 16!

He held on because they needed him for a while, then he held on because Shaun needed him. They'd worked so hard to get along and get their guarded feelings on the table…

Desmond groaned and got into the Animus again, not because the Brotherhood needed him, but because the information he sacrificed his sanity for would keep Shaun safe.

* * *

**The Offspring: You're Gonna Go Far, Kid**

**[2:57:00 minutes]**

Ezio took a deep breath, bit his lip, and burst out laughing at the adorably petulant pout on Leonardo's face. God help him, he didn't mean to laugh, but he was sure that he had never met a worse liar in his life!

"It's not funny, Ezio!" Leonardo growled as he swatted the _Assassino_'s shoulder as hard as he could.

The relatively light hit just made Ezio laugh harder and he fell off of the crate he had perched on, red in the face and certain he hadn't laughed so hard in a long time. He had only meant to teach his naïve lover how to _properly_ get the guards off his back when questioned and all he had managed to do was bust a gut. He was tired of hawking Leonardo because the guards were too suspicious, but with the way Leonardo lied…

Ezio might as well ask Antonio and Rosa for help because there was no way in hell Leonardo was ever going to be able to lie properly.

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**Wow... um, that was a lot harder than I thought it would be! It was still fun and I'm going to leave this open in case I want to add to it (God knows I have enough music to allow for more). I have a feeling this is going to be a popular way for me to avoid my homework in the coming semester. -____-'**


	2. Session 02

**Nonpoint: Get Inside**

**[2:54:00 minutes]**

They used to be civil, but Altaϊr was fairly certain that he had gone and stabbed those days in the back. Now, they could barely tolerate each other's mere presences and any words they traded were harsh and grating, always dancing around the truths that they wanted to spit at each other. He was really quite tired of the tension and degraded himself for being so damned blind, for ruining the one good thing he had in his life.

Sometimes their harsh words would elevate to insults and eventually fists, but they never got to the heart of the matter. It seemed that they were damned to this new cycle of hatred and grudges and Altaϊr knew he would have to get used to it. Malik had his right to bear grudges and Altaϊr would have to acclimate himself to the fact that he would have to trade those poisonous words and fight those useless fights and wait until Kingdom Come for words he would never hear.

* * *

**Linkin Park: Somewhere I Belong**

**[3:33:00 minutes]**

Desmond had always wanted a place to belong. From birth, he had been nothing but a tool and being raised in the cold clinical ways of the Assassin hadn't done him any favors. Even as they tried to break him to rebuild him, he had longed for love and companionship and it had come to a point where he had run away to find what he wanted, put himself in danger by living in normal society to find a place that wanted him for _who_ he was, not _what_.

Through capture and more forced actions and people who wanted him for _what _he was, he had finally found a place that wanted him for _who_ he was. Rather, he had found one person who didn't care what he could do or who he was descended from or what kind of information he had hidden in his head.

Shaun loved him unconditionally for who he was and that was something Desmond would never let go of.

* * *

**Divine Heresy: Bringer of Plagues**

**[3:38:00 minutes]**

When Ezio had returned from Roma, Leonardo had seen the change in his lover's eyes, the uncertainty and fear he hadn't seen there since the _Assassino_ had first come to him seeking shelter and a competent weaponsmith. He'd sworn he'd never see that scared, shaking man again and he was worried when Ezio had curled up next to him that first night in catatonic silence, eyes unseeing and body shaking like a dead leaf in the wind.

Leonardo had long ago learned never to ask Ezio what upset or angered him, assured that Ezio would tell him if he felt the need to. So, he did what he always did and comforted his lover, offering his presence as an anchor to keep the _Assassino_ in the real world where he belonged. It went that way for months and, when Leonardo was about ready to interrogate Antonio on Ezio's condition, Ezio had called him aside and had finally spoken of the demons that haunted him.

Leonardo could only listen and try to comprehend as Ezio told him of a world before theirs and a world after and the entity that had shown him exactly how the world would end.

* * *

**Sonic Syndicate: Jack of Diamonds**

**[3:41:00 minutes]**

Under his confident façade and easy humor, Shaun knew Desmond was damaged goods and he loved the man for that. In a world of preset destinies and praying to see the next sunrise, he loved Desmond more than life itself because the man was chaotic, unpredictable, and so fragile that he had to be cherished and fixed. No one knew Shaun could be patient, not with the way he snapped and barked, but he always treated Desmond with a certain measure of care, even when they had to keep pretenses of rivalry up.

Life had beaten Desmond but good and Shaun took a measure of pride in helping the Assassin rebuild himself. Desmond always asked him why he bothered and he would just smile and kiss him on the forehead and tell him how much he was loved. Shaun knew that any moment could take Desmond away from him, but he wanted to give him some part of a happy life before that happened, give him at least one reason to remember living for before the reaper staked his claim.

* * *

**Charlie Daniel's Band: Devil Went Down to Georgia**

**[3:37:00 minutes]**

Altaϊr should have known better to enter such wagers with Malik, but damn if he wasn't tired of hearing Malik grouse at him for being unable to take on actual assassination mission again. It wasn't his fault he was protective, especially with their history, and he found it mildly unbecoming for a Master of Assassins to want to go riding off into the sunset for the blood of a mark. Nevermind the fact that Altaϊr spent more of his time out on missions then in Maysaf…

Whatever the case, it was stupid to take the wager and Altaϊr damned his luck, damned the tower, and damned his lover to hell as he glared from the edge of the tower in question.

"I believe I've won," Malik announced happily. "When is my first mission?"

Altaϊr hauled himself up over the ledge and almost shoved Malik into the water on the south side. "How did you get up here faster than I with not but one arm?"

Malik smiled and replied, "You never said _how_ we were to ascend, so I merely took the stairs and climbed the small distance remaining to the top." His smile was unshakable as he patted Altaϊr on the shoulder. "I'll start with localized marks, to your benefit."

Altaϊr just continued to glare. Damn Malik, damn his perception and cunning, and damn the fact that he, the Eagle of Maysaf, had just been bested by a one-armed Assassin in a race to the top of the tallest tower in Maysaf.

* * *

**Marilyn Manson: You Spin Me Right Round [Billy Idol Cover]**

**[2:45:00 minutes]**

Despite his flights of fancy and idealistic nature, Leonardo had always been a little skeptical about love and true love and whatnot. He found it simply ridiculous that two people could lock eyes and, BAM, they were in love for the rest of their lives. The whole concept seemed shaky and farfetched and he would sooner put more stock into his plans for a flying machine then the piercing kiss of a little cherubim's arrow.

And then Maria Auditore had come calling and she had brought an angel with her.

Leonardo hadn't believed it was possible, but he had stood rooted to the spot in a stupor as he tried to remind himself that staring was rude. The only thing he really heard from the woman was the name of the striking creature behind her and all he thought thereafter was, _I would love to have him for a model… one that will be kept in the workshop at all times…_ And his thoughts went awry after that and he had to pull them back to focus.

After that brief encounter, Leonardo had sworn that he would never again see the man he wanted to keep locked up away from the world, the one who had made him reconsider love at first sight. But, to his surprise, his wayward obsession came back to him one night for help and a place to sleep. Leonardo had given both and over time, they became friends, able to trust one another unconditionally.

And, with some masterful maneuvering that the _Assassino_ no doubt saw through and still played along with, Leonardo finally managed to take Ezio as his lover and all that night, he thanked _Dìos_ for Maria Auditore's love of art.

* * *

**Red: Already Over**

**[4:24:00 minutes]**

Shaun didn't give a damn, at least that's what he told himself. He had a job to do and that job entailed too much focus and energy to give a shit about anything else that went on around him. When Rebecca had a bad day or Lucy was too stressed out, he didn't even give them another look, assured that they would figure out their own problems. If Desmond came out of the Animus 2.0 roughly, Shaun would spare a remark and return to work because he just didn't care.

He didn't care if Desmond would hang around late to help him with his work and he certainly didn't care when the man went through the trouble of finding out his favorite food to entice him to eat, and he didn't think twice when Desmond brought him coffee made to perfection. He had no patience to hear Desmond talk about the things he saw or felt or heard even though he would put his work aside and listen in what appeared to be rapt fascination.

Shaun didn't give a damn when he found Desmond collapsed in this place or that from being under for too long and he sure as hell didn't care when he found the insufferable bastard testing the augment of Ezio's abilities, though he sure as hell looked panicky in either event.

But, it was all a great, big lie. Shaun knew he gave a damn and he was thankful for Desmond's help and attention and distractions, hated him for causing so much worry, and loved him so completely that it hurt for just being a slice of chaos in a cut and dry world.

* * *

**Sweet: Ballroom Blitz**

**[4:04:00 minutes]**

"Oh God…"

Lucy's begrudging groan was about the only warning anyone got before that insipid drunkard pushed Desmond's line a little too far. The man had a long fuse, but certain triggers shortened that fuse, namely Templars and assholes that hit on his boyfriend.

Time slowed as Desmond's fist shot out to slam the interloper in the nose, shattering the bridge and drawing blood as the drunk toppled and sprawled against the floor in a near-faint. It was quiet as every eye in the room rose to Desmond, who had Shaun at his back groaning and hanging his head, muttering something about never letting the Assassin drink again.

"GET 'IM!"

Chaos exploded then and Lucy had the good, God-given sense to hide behind the bar, where she found Rebecca nursing her shot and grinning like mad. "Where's Shaun?" she asked the IT expert.

Rebecca pointed behind her. "Where else?"

Lucy peered over the bar long enough of find Desmond and Shaun decimating the angry mob and she sighed as she slunk back down. "I'm never letting them drink again."

* * *

**Breaking Benjamin: Blow Me Away**

**[3:25:00 minutes]**

A dead-end behind him, two walls to his left and right, and a semi-circle of guards closing in. He knew there were archers on the roof as well, ready to put him down if he resisted, and he cursed violently under his breath. His sword had been lost in the initial rush to get away from the guards, it was his own stupid fault that he had neglected to retrieve his short sword, and he was doubtful that the handful of throwing knives he had would help him dispatch all of the guards.

There was literally nowhere to go and he briefly entertained the notion of using one of the knives against himself instead of facing the interrogator, but a small voice in the back of his head screamed "Coward!" and dissuaded him from such extreme measures. He wondered what else there was to do as he pressed himself flat against the wall behind him, dark eyes roving over the guards that approached him carefully despite his disarmed state –they knew the danger of an Assassin and weren't taking their chances.

Then, before he could think to dart through a wall of armor and swords, he saw a shadow across the wall that moved with uncanny speed unlike an archer. Soon after, three of the archers fell to the ground dead and the four gave a choked shout before dropping dead with his companions. A flash of white and red dropped soon thereafter the guards didn't know what hit them; they were down and dead before they could even muster a defense.

Malik wasn't aware that he was pale and breathing hard until Altaϊr turned and smirked at him, covered in blood and pleased to find his lover in one piece. "Are you okay?" he had to affirm.

Malik scowled and felt like punching the smug bastard who liked his last-second entries a little too much. "Cut it closer next time, why don't you?"

* * *

**The Agonist: Rise and Fall**

**[4:02:00 minutes]**

What was it that they were fighting for? When had they lost sight of it? Why did they live in fear of the end and who exactly did they fear? They were important questions that Desmond wanted answered but he kept to himself because there was no use in asking. It was good enough to know that he had to train, had to fight, had to die for a cause that could have damn well predated the current existence. He did all of these things and he did them well; there was no question of motive, of rank, of orders.

Desmond fought like the Eagle of Maysaf had, blind and stupid and dull to the greater motive.

That worried Shaun to no ends and he always confronted Desmond when the Assassin returned to base bloodied and tired and a fight always ensued. Shaun wanted Desmond to exercise caution and Desmond wanted to exercise his right to kill without question. Shaun wanted Desmond to think about taking a break and Desmond wanted to think about throwing himself deeper into the fire. They always fought over the same things and they always left each other angry and about to throw down.

And, they always came back to each other when calmer heads prevailed. They knew they were two types of soldiers in a war and that nothing they did would ever change that. It was no use fighting when every minute could be their last and all the fights faded into the knowledge that there would always be war and that they should enjoy the time they had.

* * *

**  
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	3. Session 03

**Shinedown: Devour**

**[3:46:00 minutes]**

The first day, Malik had walked past the door and ignored it.

The second day, he had walked by the door again and gave it nothing but a second glance.

The third day, he walked by the door again and worry creased his brow.

The fourth day, he stopped at the door and knocked gently, ears straining to hear anything from within.

The fifth day, he stopped at the door and knocked again with more force, not all that relieved to hear a dismissive snarl from within.

The sixth day, he knocked on the door and actually entered, scared and amazed all at once when he saw the absolute mess that had taken over the room. Parchments mingled on every available surface with empty ink vials and texts occupied whatever blank spaces were left. When he was barked at to leave, he did so just to abate the shock of looking into those stormy eyes and finding nothing.

The seventh day, he realized what was happening and stormed back into the room, refusing to knock or stop, dark eyes flashing insanely in the waning light. "What in the hell are you doing?"

"Leave me in peace, Malik," Altaϊr snarled.

Seven more days passed this way and on the fifteenth day, Malik found the door was locked and barred very well. So he sat there and banged on it until his fist was bloody and his voice was gone, screaming at Altaϊr to come out, to eat, to beat him to a pulp, to do something more then gaze at that fucking Piece. He accused Altaϊr of letting Maysaf suffer in his selfishness, begged him not to let the Apple devour him, and then gave up when silence was his only reply.

* * *

**Linkin Park: Forgotten**

**[3:14:00 minutes]**

Desmond hid it well, but he was falling apart, coming undone at the seams, and stepping that much closer to the insanity that he had scoffed at Subject 16 for not that long ago. He acted like he always did and learned to take responsive cues from the conversations he held. But, he never laughed at an inside joke or felt the pain from a bad memory or recalled the warmth of love or the safety of being _home_. He could act well, but he knew that there wasn't that much left of him.

How much longer before he fell apart entirely?

How much longer before he went insane?

How much longer before he forgot everything?

These thoughts didn't scare Desmond as much as they intrigued him and he struggled through his sessions to see where his boundaries lie, where was it that he snapped and never came back?

Desmond was a good actor and he played the part of the mentally stable well, but there were some things he couldn't hide and it was those flaws that Shaun always picked at, always ripped open, always prodded at until he saw a light of real recognition in Desmond's eyes.

* * *

**The Used: The Bird and the Worm**

**[3:45:00 minutes]**

Warm, brash, open, confident – that was the Ezio that the world knew.

Cold, reserved, hurt, scared – that was the Ezio Leonardo knew.

It was like knowing two different men, two distinct personalities that were worlds away from one another, trapped in one body that somehow managed to express so many different emotion and play so many parts without a hitch. No one ever saw that second side of Ezio except for Leonardo and, even then, it was certain that the _Assassino_ didn't want his lover to see that darker side of himself.

Leonardo saw it anyway because he was naturally intuitive, but he was always at a loss on how to help Ezio. The man accepted no solace, no comfort, nothing but a safe place to sleep and aid in his quest for vengeance, sometimes a veiled notation of affection. He knew Ezio tolerated his hugs and kisses patiently, but with half of a cringe, always trying to protect himself from another blow.

How did he help a man that wanted no aid?

How could he love a man that was afraid to lose again?

Leonardo was a genius and those answers would forever escape him.

* * *

**Mudvayne: Forget to Remember**

**[3:35:00 minutes]**

Malik was a wound to Altaϊr, a living, breathing wound that never healed and never stopped throbbing. Every time he looked at the man, thought of him, he felt the pain of guilt and responsibility shorten his breath and try to make him bow. He spoke with the man in clipped tones when he wanted to scream for forgiveness until his throat bled, hurled insults when he wanted to fall to his knees and grovel for liberation from his demons.

Altaϊr thought he would never escape the memory of what his pride had done and continued to do. He couldn't make himself say those three words; he was afraid of rejection, too proud to lower himself by admission, and uncertain even of what to say.

So he continued to hurt, trapped in memory while he was trapped in a cycle of murderous deeds. None of his wounds ever hurt so bad as the one named Malik and he prayed to forget all about the pain when it became too much to bear. He sometimes sought out physical pain to make the other pain stop and nothing ever worked.

* * *

**Coal Chamber: Beckoned**

**[4:02:00 minutes]**

The Assassin and the historian – weren't they just the perfect models of fucked up? Desmond couldn't move without Shaun and Shaun couldn't move without Desmond. They were always warring in the public and fucking in the bedroom, equal parts lunacy and love and completion and dominance. If one of them made a wrong move, it affected the other, and if the other didn't catch the screw up until too late, well… the whole city heard about it.

They hated each other for the dependency and loved each other because they didn't have to be perfect behind closed doors. They tolerated each other because they worked together and fought because they had nothing better to do.

Shaun and Desmond were dysfunctional to the definition and no one knew how they managed to co-exist without killing each other. Shaun needed Desmond to stay alive long enough to figure out the obscure clues of the past and Desmond needed Shaun alive to help him untangle his own genetic nightmare.

They knew they were fucked up.

They didn't care.

In a perfect world, they liked to know that they were fucked up together.

* * *

**Three Days Grace: Animal I Have Become**

**[3:51:00 minutes]**

Something dark lurked in the back of Ezio's mind and it scared him. Every life he took, every drop of blood that stained his hands all fed that _something_ that whispered evil things to him and drove him to murder. It had to be done, those who wronged him had to be disposed of, but that thing scared him worse than the monsters he faced every single day. He couldn't control it, couldn't make it go away; he always felt its rage burning at the edges of his consciousness, screaming for blood.

That thing, that demon, scared Ezio because he couldn't be sure that it would never change its target. It was always quieter after he killed, but what if it grew tired of the silent lapses? What if he completed his mission and slipped obscurely into a quiet life, as he desperately wanted to?

He had heard of men who went insane and woke from the dream to find their loved ones slaughtered, their blood on his hands, without an idea of what had happened. The stories chilled him because he knew it could happen to him one day and he dreaded the thought of his hands taking an innocent life.

That was why he kept his distance from Leonardo, to keep the beast quiet and assure that it never picked another target.

* * *

**Flyleaf: Cassie [Acoustic]**

**[3:34:00 minutes]**

Maysaf was lost. The Brotherhood was compromised. Innocent blood stained the once quiet streets. Loves ones were lost to flame and steel, unprepared as the stronghold had been for the forward assault. Three days, a meager three days and they had been forced to flee. No direction was the same as the other and everyone left alive knew they would receive word of where to meet when the hunt was called off and those remaining were sure their brothers would be at that meeting.

Altaϊr had been no different than the others. He had fought, he had struggled, and then he had run. His direction had been aimless and lost, his mind lost to grief and shock, and fortune brought him to a safe place to recover. He couldn't move for days, numb to the world and his injuries, gray eyes never leaving the vague traces of blood that stained his hands and stuck under his nails. Maysaf's loss didn't grieve him nor did the loss of innocent life.

"_Run! Run and I will distract them!"_

"_No, don't be a fool! …MALIK!"_

Altaϊr had seen Malik fall, had stood helpless as he watched the life leave his only love, and could do nothing as he was forced to run or join Malik in death. He wanted to, he wanted to counted with the dead and be free of the mortal coil and its pain, but he knew then and now that he had to continue.

Malik had died so he could live to lead Maysaf and live he would, until every last Templar fell under his blade.

* * *

**Ozzy Osbourne: I Don't Wanna Stop**

**[4:00:00 minutes]**

His life had always been too damned boring, to predictable, too mediocre. He looked like he fit into his lifestyle perfectly, but he didn't; it chafed and burned and irritated him every single day. He wanted excitement and danger and the fear of never knowing where the next blow would come from. His parents called him a nutter for wanting such a life and he finally left them for the States on a tenuous lead, eager to see if that little glimmer of information was his ticket to a real life.

Shaun had found his excitement – the Assassins were as dangerous as anything he had ever seen before. And the one Assassin, the descendant of the Eagle of Maysaf… Shaun found him fascinating, if not fun to incite.

Desmond lived dangerously, trained to be an Assassin from birth just to run at age 16. What sort of a madman went on the lam from the _Assassins_?! He spoke fondly of his time on the run, jumping cities and towns and friends and jobs and names to stay one step ahead of the brothers that pursued him. Shaun was fascinated by Desmond's constant flirtations with death and danger, couldn't ever quite rid himself of the distraction the man posed when he returned bloody and hyped from a mission.

Once, Shaun had asked Desmond if he ever wanted a nice, normal life and Desmond had replied, "Why the fuck would I want _that_?" and then Shaun knew he had a keeper.

* * *

**Cannibal Corpse: Dead Human Collection**

**[2:30:00 minutes]**

Couldn't see, couldn't move, couldn't hear.

Couldn't speak, couldn't scream, couldn't beg.

Pain. Fear. Agony, wrenching everything but the barest breath from his bloodied lips. He knew that a little longer and his breath would fail him and his heart would stop hammering in his ears until it stopped beating in his chest. Blood was everywhere and its stench permeated his senses, reminding him of the dead that he lay amongst.

A little longer and he wouldn't move, wouldn't see, wouldn't hear, wouldn't speak, wouldn't scream, wouldn't beg ever again. He'd been a fool to think that he could do this and he almost welcomed death as a punishment for his prideful actions.

"_Come home to me, amore mio."_

"_I will, I promise."_

He had made a vow, a promise… The words rang in his ears until he could hear them over the beating of his heart and he could see again, see Leonardo's face peering up at him hopefully before he had taken his leave.

Ezio slowly struggled to his feet, hand held to his bleeding stomach, sword used for a crutch until he could stand without fear of falling. He couldn't be counted with the dead, couldn't die here… He had to finish this and return home. He wanted to lay down and die and be done with the pain, but honor trumped pride and he forged onward, the bloody trail that followed him the only indication of a survivor on that killing field.

* * *

**TRUSTcompany: Finally**

**[4:11:00 minutes]**

"No, no, no…" The words left Altaϊr's bloodied lips in a fast-forwarded mantra, hands trying to find purchase over a pulse but nothing was possible with the shaking that plagued him. Somewhere behind him, beyond his scope of caring, he could hear Kadar's quiet breathing as he watched from the side, unsure of what to do after what he had just witnessed.

Good, Altaϊr didn't need the child in his way. "Come on, wake up!" He shook bruised shoulders roughly and prayed to every god he had ever heard of that he hadn't just made the biggest mistake of his life. It was a stupid mistake, a prideful mistake, and he feared that his arrogance had cost him something precious.

Time passed and Altaϊr grew more panicky as he tried to silence the words resounding through his head to _think_. They always fought, they always warred, and he had never noticed that his only rival had stopped fighting back. He had never noticed that Malik just went with the flow, but never went to his old, vicious ends and Altaϊr cursed himself for being so blind.

Malik had stopped rubbing defeat in his face and started to treat the wounds from their sparring secessions. He stopped being so harsh in his barbs and smiled a little more. Altaϊr had ignored all of it until he had taken it a step too far and heard the words too late; _"I don't like to hurt the ones I love."_

Altaϊr rattled Malik's still form one more time before he sat back on his heels, lost and afraid as he tried to make sense of the emotions rolling through him. Guilt? Despair? Regret? Love? Hate? He tried to chase those ethereal feelings until it all stopped with the placement of one bloody hand on his arm. He didn't realize he had closed his eyes and opened them, gasping when he found dark brown eyes staring up at him with just a touch of humor. "Malik!" Again, from the background, he could hear Kadar's similar gasp of surprise.

"You are a horrible Assassin," was all Malik said.

* * *

**...Erm... Yeeeeah, I wasn't in such a great mood when I started to write this section. -____- I'm in a good mood now that I've decimated and attempted murder on corner stone characters of the game! ^^' So, hopefully the next one won't be so damned dark.**


	4. Session 04

**Puddle of Mudd: Control**

**[3:50:00 minutes]**

Desmond didn't often get control of his and Shaun's encounters, but God did he love it when the surly Brit handed everything over to him. At first, he had been so used to being submissive that he had no idea what to do, but he was a fast leaner. He had learned how to turn Shaun into putty under his fingers and lips and tongue and figured out how to finagle just a little bit more dominance from the encounter. So many encounters had taught him that he loved it when Shaun snuck up on him and whispered filthy things in his ear. He had learned when he was given the sign that he was in charge and he would never forget the look on his lover's face when he had first exploited a theory.

Theory had turned to reality had turned to habit.

Shaun had a weak spot for control even when he gave it up and Desmond needed to be dominated and he found the middle ground. So, he learned to love it when he could ride the older man; he knew that Shaun was still technically in control, but that it was him that ultimately controlled what happened. If he wanted to be a tease or Shaun just plain pissed him off, he could stop entirely and leave the historian with nothing to do but buck like a spoiled brat against his hips. If Shaun forgot that he had handed control over, he was perfectly open to get the man's hands off his hips to put them elsewhere; somewhere conducive (like around his dick) or not (as in binds) was his flavor.

Desmond had also learned to love the fact that it never lasted long. He was a tease and Shaun was to the point; when the historian got tired of his games, he would simply move his lover over the nearest surface to pound him into it.

* * *

**Scott Stapp: You Will Soar**

**[3:39:00 minutes]**

Malik heard movement in the darkness and he opened his eyes to find the space that had been occupied when he'd fallen asleep vacant. He immediately knew who was wandering around his room and sighed softly as he sat up, bones cracking shamefully loud in the silence. "Are you awake?"

There was a squeak in the silence and a meek, "Yeah, so what?" that wasn't as arrogant as it was meant to sound.

Malik smiled softly and lit a lamp to dispel the night's shadows and illuminate the prickly teenager leering at him from where he sat at the window. "What are you doing awake still, little one? The hour is late and you have a big day tomorrow."

The teen scowled deeper and turned his face towards the sky. "I'm nervous, is that a problem?"

"No. Me and your father were nervous on the eves before our Trials as well."

"…Really?"

Malik laughed at the incredulously tone in the boy's voice and nodded. "Yes, yes we were." He sat down by the boy and ruffled his unkempt hair. "He was nervous because we had been assigned to Acre for a mark and I was nervous because of that damned Leap of Faith."

The boy sighed and hid his face behind his knees. "It's disgraceful. Were it that father was still alive, he would disown me. An Assassin that's afraid of heights… Psht…"

Malik's smile bittered as he titled the boy's head up to stare him in the eyes, stormy gray depths that reminded him of the one he missed the most. "It is not a shame to be afraid, little one, and your father would not fault you for being so." He gathered the boy, that last remnant of his dead lover, into his arm and murmured, "Do you know how I completed my trial?"

"No, how?"

"Your father said it was called the Leap of Faith for a reason, that I could soar if I just spread my wings. I didn't believe him and he told me that if I had no faith in myself, at least have faith in the one was named after the eagles." Malik looked down at the boy and grinned cheekily. "Then the bastard pushed me."

* * *

**Nonpoint: Hands**

**[4:02:00 minutes]**

_Díos, Díos, Díos_… Would _Díos_ strike him dead right there and have him finished with this business?

Leonardo paused, stared at the far wall, and considered going into theatrics for a moment before he started pacing around and beating at his head with his fist and the paintbrush he had been working with at one point. How could he have screwed up so badly? _Díos_ help him; he knew how touchy Ezio could be! He didn't know he was doing anything wrong, but damnit if he hadn't shoved the man away permanently.

It was so stupid, such a stupid thing to indulge Ezio in his brooding thoughts. Leonardo should have seen that it was a trap when Ezio asked him about their time spent apart and goddamn him for saying, "It's quiet… I manage to get some commissions done". Stupid, stupid, stupid! He had meant it as a joke and double damn him for being so distracted with that accursed codex page Ezio had brought him.

Leonardo prayed that Ezio would return to mend things over, whether by guilt or some other cosmic motivator. He just wanted Ezio to come back so he could explain his callous, thoughtless statement away and reaffirm his love for the _Assassino_.

* * *

**Otep: Rise, Rebel, Resist**

**[3:59:00 minutes]**

Everyone was entitled to their mistakes, but Shaun was starting to think that they'd made a very large mistake that couldn't be taken back. It wasn't as simple as buying the wrong gift or even smacking into another vehicle; no, this mistake was larger than life and impossible to control. It scared Shaun to death and made him want to seek shelter, but he couldn't look away from the catastrophe they'd created as it tore through the ranks of encroaching Abstergo agents.

They should have known from Sixteen… they should have been more careful and goddamn them for pushing at the last second. Shaun still remembered the last time he had seen Desmond sane and could still hear the scream of the machines as they announced an anomaly in the Assassin's brain wave activity.

Shaun had shuttered when Desmond had come to and there had been nothing in his eyes – they seemed as blank as a shark's.

They all worked to try and bring the man around, but Shaun was to the point where he saw that they had made a killing machine and there was no way to shut it off. It was fantastic to see Desmond fight now with some five ancestral skill sets behind him, but he wasn't _sane_; if Shaun moved, he knew he'd be killed without a thought. Desmond was a dog now, only good for attacking intruders; he had to be kept in a cage when he wasn't needed.

That part killed Shaun because it hadn't always been like that. But, it wasn't worth it to relive those days since he'd never have them back. He could only remember when Desmond had told him that he didn't want to be a martyr for the cause, he didn't want to be another statistic lost to the Animus, that he didn't want to lose his mind.

Shaun heard Lucy call out a warning and dodged out of the way before Desmond could cleave him in half. He gripped his gun harder and grit his teeth. Before, they had no way to fight the Templars back and now they had one, but it had come at the price of Desmond's humanity.

Another guard went down in a spray of blood and dead brown eyes glared through a mask of red, searching for another target to cut down.

Shaun readied himself and died a little when his gun chambered another bullet. If he'd known the price of rebellion was Desmond, he never would have let him near the Animus.

But, it was too late now and all he could do was guard himself against the soulless devil that tore through the agent ranks and forget what he once had.

* * *

**Creed: Overcome**

**[3:47:00 minutes]**

How much longer was he going to live in the shadow of a memory? He had been knocked down so violently that he was certain that he only knew how to crawl across the dirt on his belly. Nothing he did was ever good enough and, even if he was more pious then before, there was only so much he could take before he broke. There were so many times he could take being insulted. He would only let the insults slide for so long. How much more humiliation would he suffer before his sins were forgiven? When these thoughts first occurred to him, he had a problem enacting them because he was reminded every time he stepped into the Bureau that his own pride had cost more than one person a lot.

But, why did he have to pay for his sins every time he _did_ enter the Bureau?

Just looking at Malik was punishment enough.

He was at his wits end by the time his seventh target came around. He had done his time, suffered the ramifications of his actions, and made good on mending his warped ways. He was a reformed man and he realized that he didn't have to be degraded to be humble.

The next time Altaϊr faced Malik, he did so with his head held high and a light of challenge in his eyes. Just like Malik had been given room to come to terms with what had happened, he needed his space as well and he would be damned before he took another ounce of flack again.

* * *

**Green Day: Brain Stew**

**[3:13:00 minutes]**

Leonardo sighed deeply and threw his hands up, fingertips disturbing the ends of his hair as he started on a furious track around the room. Had it been two nights now, or three, he had no clue. All he knew was that he was too fucking tired to be running around his studio trying to figure out how long he'd been awake.

Stupid Ezio.

When the _Assassino_ said he'd be back in a day, Leonardo should have known better then to actually count him as MIA for twenty-four hours. A day usually meant three and a week meant a month and "see you around" meant "I'm going to disappear for however many years".

"I hate him," Leonardo grumbled under his breath. He sat down by the window long enough to realize that the summer breeze might lull him to sleep before he got back up. Hypnos summoned him persistently, but he didn't want to go to sleep until his bothersome lover actually returned.

Last time Leonardo had gone to sleep while Ezio was away, he had been awoken by the sounds of the man crashing about in a daze. The painter might have been a little airheaded, but he was _not _ going to be woken up to find Ezio bleeding all over the place again. And so, he stayed up until the first light of morning and his third consecutive night awake.

Ezio showed up that afternoon in fine health and could only snigger at the exhausted painter sleeping by the window.

* * *

**Finger Eleven: Stay in Shadow**

**[3:15:00 minutes]**

Malik could see that something was wrong after so many encounters with Altaϊr. He seemed harder, colder, even more removed from his humanity then before. That worried the young dai, but his concern was frequently overshadowed by his glee over the fact that the Eagle was learning humility. It made grinding salt into the man's emotion wounds so much more enjoyable and, at first, Malik looked forward to Altaϊr's missions in the city so that he could grind the demoted Assassin's face in the dirt a little harder.

But, it wasn't fun anymore.

Malik would swear up one side of Jerusalem and down the other that Altaϊr wasn't just reforming himself; he was turning into the very shadows he lurked in. The thought was a bit disconcerting at first and the more Malik flirted with it, the more it terrified him. He liked Altaϊr knocked down a few pegs, but not that far down! He started to panic and one thought led to another led to sleepless nights spent worrying about the man.

Hatred was an important tool and grudges were powerful weapons, but Malik had come to realize that they had done him no good. His quest to make Altaϊr pay for the Temple had gone beyond vengeance. Altaϊr was almost too far gone, too trapped in a cycle of penance and doubt that Malik's constant reminders and scathing dismissals and insults had done nothing but further damage him. Ultimately, Malik realized that Assassins lived in shadows, but that didn't mean they had to become those shadows, and he vowed to stop before Altaϊr faded from existence entirely.

* * *

**Slipknot: Snuff**

**[4:36:00 minutes]**

"I've killed before and I'll kill again."

Shaun had told Desmond that once and Desmond sorely wished that the man had also warned him that he'd completely abandoned people before and he had no problem doing it again. Not that he was necessarily angry, but Desmond would have really liked a warning before Shaun up and disappeared on him. Since being chased from the warehouse, life had been exceptionally chaotic, but they were together – wasn't that what counted?

But, Shaun had been acting so strangely lately and Desmond had never seen his flight coming.

Shaun was always a snappy little bitch and it took a great deal of sweet talking and orchestral maneuvers to get him to warm up, but a deserter? The word still stated sour in Desmond's mouth, but he couldn't spit it out. Shouldn't he have been given more warning then to wake up to a cold bed one morning? Hadn't he done more to deserve some sort of conversation to settle whatever dispute had arisen without his knowing?

Desmond screamed and threw the paper containing Shaun's last words to him across the room in a tight ball. He flopped down hard on the convertible couch, holding his head in his hands as he tried to come to grips with the facts. He'd been taken in by kind words and promises before and God damn him for being taken in again. He'd thought Shaun was different, thought there was something better about him.

"It's my fault for being so blind," he growled. "Never again." He was sick of being hurt and if he had to turn his heart to ice to survive the insanity he lived in, so be it. Shaun was his last –his favorite–mistake and there wouldn't be another one again.

* * *

**Mindless Self Indulgence: Lights Out**

**[2:37:00 minutes]**

Time seemed to move in slow motion as the hapless man tottered, hand held to his bleeding nose before fell backwards like a felled tree. It was deathly silent for a beat before the rabble that had backed the downed man advanced with weapons drawn.

"Time to go!" Ezio exclaimed as he darted forward, grabbing Leonardo's wrist to drag the pale man after him.

Leonardo trust Ezio to lead the way and was thankful for as much, because he couldn't think much past the fact that he had just punched someone.

"Come on," Ezio urged. "I don't think those guys were too happy about you decking their boss."

Leonardo yelped when he was dragged down an alleyway and pulled close to Ezio, cheeks heating up when his face was pressed into the _Assassino's _chest. He heard the thunder of footsteps roll by and he prayed that the men weren't stupid enough to double back and check in the shady hiding spots.

When the lynch mob passed and it was quiet for a few moments, Ezio promptly busted out laughing.

Leonardo wrenched himself away from Ezio to glare at him. "What is so funny?"

"I've never heard anyone apologize after punching a person," Ezio chuckled. "It was priceless, Leonardo! You're still pale as paper!" He laughed harder when Leonardo tried to defend himself by saying that he had just acted on impulse and an apology was in order. "You don't _apologize_ to a man who just insulted you," he wheezed.

Leonardo huffed and scowled dangerously at Ezio. "I don't like violence."

"I can tell!" Ezio didn't see Leonardo move in his hysterics and, even if he had been sober, he wouldn't have guessed at what was coming at him. As it was, he staggered when Leonardo's fist connected with his face and toppled onto his rear in shock and mild pain.

"I _do_ make exceptions," Leonardo stated warningly.

Ezio made a note not to laugh at the painter again.

* * *

**Three Days Grace: Life Starts Now**

**[3:08:00 minutes]**

It was over.

It was finally over and they should have been happy, goddamnit! They all knew their losses would have to be cut and they'd have to accept those losses. It was understood that they could all die at any minute and they should have been happy that they'd all survived to see the end.

They should have partied like fucking gods for what they'd done.

But, it wasn't like that from Shaun's perspective. It was a narrow perspective, focused solely on Desmond as he watched the man sink deeper and deeper into depression. At first, he couldn't understand what the Assassin had to be depressed about, but he'd come to his own conclusions after so long.

Anything that had given Desmond purpose was gone.

No one had suspected Subject 17 would survive the Animus sessions, nevermind the war against Abstergo. It had never been a consideration that Desmond was just stubborn enough to make it to the end, so no one had ever thought about how he would feel about the end of his usefulness.

Shaun was at a loss for how to help Desmond, but he couldn't let his partner, his friend, his comrade, his lover continue to fade away. The best he could do was hold his hand out to Desmond one day and quietly say, "We'll find a way through this together, but don't leave when it's just getting better."

Miracles hadn't been expected, but Desmond performed one anyway when he accepted Shaun's hand and smiled for the first time in months.


End file.
